Finders Keepers
by thefangirldiaries
Summary: AH/AU - Rose has been watching her back for 2 years on the run now after being threatened by a drug dealer. Having never met her birth parents, she didn't know that she was also running away from the very people trying to help her.


**Author's note:** Hello everyone! I wrote this story for the VA10thanniversaryproject, a collaboration of fanfiction authors and short stories for the VA universe (all submissions and stories are published under the underlined username). The last set of stories we wrote were all AUs about how Romitri would meet/ fall in love in different circumstances than the book. I'm sure most of you have already read the stories for this project, but for those who haven't, check it out! All the stories are written by author's who love VA as much as the rest of us. And a huge THANK YOU to the organizers of this project - Lea0014, Llaria6 & NB313!

I haven't decided yet if I'm going to continue this story; I know it ends vaguely. It all depends on how well you all seem to like it! (Not my best work in terms of romance, but I wanted to try something new with this story). Without further adieu - enjoy!

\- thefangirldiaries

* * *

Chicago, 16 years old, September

* * *

Rose slid her hand in Lissa's and led her to the dance floor. The blonde followed without complaint, and started swaying to the music along with her friend. Rose was eyeing a man in the corner of the club, Lissa noticed. They stayed close to the edge of the dance floor, in perfect view of the man. Rose smiled at him and pressed herself closer to Lissa, moving her hips to the tempo and bumping into Lissa more than once.

The man in the corner leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees as the black-haired girl pressed even closer to her pale friend. He smiled at her, all the encouragement she needed to start full-out grinding on her friend, making the man visibly excited. Lissa giggled and slid her hands along Rose's arm and hips as they danced for the man.

It wasn't long before Rose grew impatient, and she left Lissa with a sloppy hug and a whispered, "Be right back!" which was eaten up by the sounds of the club.

Lissa watched Rose walk away in shock. They'd come to this club together multiple times, but Rose had never approached a stranger at a club before. She reluctantly trusted that Rose wouldn't leave the club without her, so she made her way deeper into the dance floor, speaking the silent language of bodies with strangers.

Lissa never knew just what to expect with Rose, she could only pray that her friend would be careful. God knew there was no stopping her, and Lissa had given up trying long ago.

They had been together for 5 years, ever since it didn't work out with Lissa's last foster mother, and she came to live with Ms. Petrov, where Rose lived. Rose had already been with Petrov for 3 years before Lissa came to live with them, and both girls often wondered why their stern, strong-willed foster mother hadn't either adopted them or tossed them already. Not that either girl was complaining; both knew how bad it could be with another fosterer. And they had each other; all that they needed to survive.

Because their maternal figure was strict, the girls enjoyed sneaking out and tasting the urban nightlife behind Petrov's back.

Outside the club, in an alley full of trash, Rose had her legs wrapped around the man she'd danced for earlier, Rob. Her heart was beating fast, but not from excitement. He had her pressed up against the wall, his breath hot on her face.

"What?" she asked, not because she didn't hear him, but because she was hoping he would take back what he'd just said.

He grinned, and she noticed he was missing a tooth. "I said," he began slowly, talking down to her as if she were a child, "that I have a really great opportunity for you."

"No," Rose said stubbornly, "what you said after that."

He sighed and stepped back from the wall, setting Rose on her feet and holding her shoulders. "Look, all you have to do is carry it in your backpack or purse or whatever and drop it off at the address I give you. That's it! It's so easy!"

Rose opened and closed her mouth, gawking at the man who'd become severely less attractive since stepping outside of the club. "Y-you're a drug dealer," she finally said, her voice filled with contempt.

Rob narrowed his eyes, sensing Rose's moral compass. Before Rose could move, he placed his hands on either side of her face and stepped closer, caging her in. "You're going to make the delivery for me," he growled.

Rose pushed him back, surprising him and giving her enough space to dart out and away from him. She was fast, but not fast enough. His hand shot out and got hold of her hair. He pulled her back, making her yell out in pain. He got hold of her shoulder and threw her down to the ground, and followed after, pinning her down with his body. One hand pushed down with all his bodyweight on her shoulder, and she knew it would be bruised even if he let go now.

"I hoped you were going to be a good girl… You could have made a lot of money, you dumb bitch." He was panting, his hot breath causing Rose to cringe away from him, but the rest of her body was frozen. There was nothing she could do; he was too heavy for her to shove off, and he knew it. He smiled like the whole thing was entertaining to him. "Now, because I made a bad judgement call on you, I have to make sure you stay silent."

"I won't tell anyone!" she pleaded, "I'll stay quiet."

"You say that now, but if I let you go, you would run straight to the police." He stroked a hand down her face, sliding it down until it fastened around her neck. "I promise," Rose whispered. "I won't go to the police… please."

"Well, if you're not going to tell on me, then no one has to know about this." The hand the was pressing down on her shoulder moved down her chest and made its way to her skirt. Rose cried out for someone to help her as he rumpled up the fabric and his hand made its way to her flesh.

His other hand let go of her neck and reached for the back of his waistband, where he produced a handgun and brought it to Rose's temple. She felt the metal, warmed from Rob's body heat, pressed firmly against her skin and sweat.

A steel resolve came over Rose as she realized her only two options were to not fight and die, or to fight and maybe live. She thought that her heart had been beating so fast before that it had to stop beating altogether now; there was no blood rushing in her, only a strange, foreign calm.

He was saying something to her, taunting her, she could see that, she could feel his hand on her, but she couldn't hear anything above the ringing in her head. Before she could talk herself down, she jerked her knee into Rob's crotch and grabbed for the gun. He yelled out, cursing as his hands went instinctively to protect his penis, so Rose used the opportunity to shove his shoulder and roll him off of her.

Rose leapt to her feet with the gun held tight in both of her hands, pointed at Rob. He looked up at her with loathing, spit flying from his mouth as he tried to control his breathing. Rose noticed with satisfaction that his neck had turned red in splotches.

He swore again and lurched forward, the sudden movement made Rose tense and she pulled the trigger. The bullet went right passed Rob and hit a garbage can, the sound of the shot and the bullet hitting metal rung through the night air. She knew there was no way the people in the club didn't hear that.

The sense of calm was slipping away from her, but it didn't matter now, she thought, because she had the advantage. Someone would call the cops; or maybe a cop nearby had heard it himself.

Rob knew this too, and pulled himself together enough to raise his arms in defense and stand up to face her properly. He gave her a sardonic smile, "You can't keep me here until the cops arrive, you know."

"Why's that? I've got the gun," she said with as much bravado she could muster.

"Because I already put the coke in your bag."

"You-"

"When you went to the bathroom, before we came outside. I stuffed it in that cute black backpack." He jerked his chin to the item in question, on the ground next to the club's back exit. A sense of urgency came over her, and she wanted to be gone as badly as she knew he did.

"I've got a clean record," he stated.

Rose scoffed, "What do I care about your record?!"

"I'll tell them that the coke is yours. Who are they going to believe? The adult with the clean record or the underage foster-system girl with a fake ID? That's right, I checked out your wallet, too. One ID that says you can drink, and another that says you can just barely drive." Rose cursed herself for telling him she was a foster kid. "Plus," he added smugly, "my brother is a cop. The men on patrol tonight are his friends."

Rose clenched her jaw. She knew the odds were against her. As if he summoned them, Rose heard sirens in the distance, and looked at her bag in a panic, trying to decide what to do. Rob took a step forward, using her doubt to his advantage.

"Let me go, or I'll tell them the drugs belong to you. It's my word against yours," he reasoned.

He inched his way to the street, and Rose's aim followed him. He kept his hands up in a defensive gesture as he walked toward freedom. He didn't walk right past her, though, and stopped to survey her.

"No matter where you go, I'll find you. I don't leave business unfinished," he threatened.

"Neither do I," Rose said through gritted teeth as she pulled the trigger once more. The bullet lodged itself somewhere in his midsection and he crumpled to the ground, crying out. Rose ran over and stuffed the gun in her bag and opened the back door to the club.

Find Lissa, she thought. Find Lissa, and never come back.

* * *

Portland, 18 years old, August

* * *

Rose woke up at 2 pm, just in time to throw on her waitress uniform and minimal makeup and speed walk a block over to Gina's Diner for her shift at 3. Her manager, Leslie, caught Rose's eye and smiled as she walked in. "Hey there, sweetie." Leslie was only 21, but she spoke like a grandmother. Rose loved working when Leslie was there; she knew she would have a fun shift full of snide comments about awful customers.

After the incident with the drug dealer in Chicago, Rose and Lissa left the state, and after rolling into Seattle on a Greyhound, they decided to stay there. Rose didn't want Lissa to come with her, but Lissa wouldn't let her leave alone. They found a cheap apartment with a tenant who didn't ask for IDs, where they stayed until they were both 18, then they moved in with two college girls who needed roommates to split the rent; Lissa even started taking classes at the community college, "To get a better job someday."

For over a year, Rose had been in and out of various jobs in the Seattle area, until she came to Gina's Diner. Rose was endeared to the entire staff, and while she wasn't close friends with most of her coworkers, she could at least stand to get through the day with any one of them.

Rose pointed finger guns at Leslie as she sped past to the break room to clock in.

Once she started her shift, she felt herself fall into autopilot. The diner wasn't that busy yet, but her mind was numb as she went through the familiar routine of taking orders and listening to customers complain. Most of her interactions never strayed from the script she recycled each time she took an order.

She was sending a text to Jeremiah about their date tonight when she saw a customer being seated in her area in her peripheral vision. She stuffed her phone in her apron and walked over. Usually her customers features were all a blur, since she sees so many people everyday, but this man stood out to her. She drank in his features as she made her way to him. He was reading over the menu so she felt free to stare. He had light brown hair, longer than she was used to seeing on a man, and it was pulled back with a hair-tie. She knew this was the first time she'd seen him, because his face was unforgettable.

Even though he was sitting, she could tell he was tall. The kind of tall that, if he were standing, she'd have to crane her neck to look him in the eye.

Before she could reach his table, though, an older man with thick glasses snapped his fingers and whistled to get Rose's attention. She tensed, as she always does when a customer does this, because she can already tell he'll be difficult. She smiled apologetically at the beautiful man who was now looking at her, and made her way to the impatient senior.

She didn't have to ask him what he needed, he started his complaint the moment she stepped into earshot. "I finished my water and I haven't gotten a refill in over 15 minutes!" he accused, thrusting the glass at her. Rose knew for a fact that he was exaggerating, because she'd just made a round less than five minutes ago. But, she couldn't contradict him if she wanted her tip. "I'm sorry about that sir, I must have missed that." she took glass, which still had some ice cubes in it, and was about to get his refill when he grabbed her wrist.

"Now, sweetie, I know people have bad days, but this job isn't that hard. Just make sure you get people their water! You won't be getting a tip from me if I have to wait for water again."

Maybe it was the man's arrogance, or the fact that he touched her and called her sweetie, or threatened to take away her tip, but she'd had enough of him. She spit in his cup.

"You want water?" she slammed the cup on the table. "Here's your water."

Her heart was beating fast and everything in her told her what she was doing was wrong, and that excited her.

The man was so dumbfounded he didn't have any more condescending wisdom to offer her. She walked away, a new lightness to her step as she made her way back to the beautiful man, more full of confidence. He'd been watching the whole interaction, she noticed, which gave her pause.

"Do you do that to all your customer's?" the beautiful man asked, and she couldn't tell if he was appalled or entertained by what she just did. He had a strange accent that she couldn't place; she would have to hear him speak more. She smirked at him, "Only the ones who call me sweetie."

The man smiled, and she thought he was holding back laughter. "Noted," he said.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked with a huge grin on her face.

The man nodded with a smile, albeit much smaller than hers. "Coffee, please, easy on the spit."

She laughed out loud this time and nodded, putting her notepad away without jotting the order down.

"Won't you get fired for doing something like that?" the man asked curiously, and she was startled to see that there was actual concern for her on the man's face.

She shrugged. "My manager will tell the man that we absolutely don't tolerate behavior like this and I'll be let go, but I won't actually get in trouble, I think… Besides it would be worth it to get fired defending myself from a prick."

He smiled again, and nodded to where the man sat, Leslie now by him. "I guess we'll see."

Rose went counter between the kitchen and the busboys' sink to collect her thoughts. She just met him, but that small banter they shared made her want more. One of the new hostesses, Rose didn't remember her name, came over by Rose and leaned in with a knowing look. "Looks like you're going to get that guy's phone number."

Rose looked up in shock, "What do you mean?" Rose asked, following the girl's gaze to confirm that they were talking about the man.

"Well, I was about to put him in Jimmy's section, but he saw you and asked to be seated where you would be his server." She winked and walked back to her podium at the front of the diner.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case for Rose. The man ordered a sandwich, barely touched it, and left behind a generous tip, but no phone number. Rose felt oddly dejected that the man didn't even try to converse with her, but she soon forgot about it when her shift ended and she went on her date with Jeremiah.

The first time Rose let Jeremiah take her out, she discovered that she doesn't like him at all. She sat through their dinner and felt as though she were watching paint dry. She felt pity that he seemed to like Rose so much, and no matter what she said to him or what opinion she gave him, he would go along with it and act like she was the smartest girl in the world. She may not like him, but she did like the attention he gave her. Lissa encouraged Rose to give that "sweet boy" another chance. This time, they were going to the movies; Rose's choice, so at least she wouldn't be bored.

After the movie ended, Jeremiah asked Rose if she wanted to sit down and eat somewhere. She gave him the excuse that she had work early in the morning and should get some rest, which was true, but she felt guilty knowing that if anyone else had asked, she would've accepted their offer.

Jeremiah insisted on walking Rose to her door, and before she could put her key in the lock, Jeremiah pulled her in for a kiss. She let it happen, hoping that something would've changed. But there was no spark, no overwhelming emotion when he kissed her, and she couldn't help thinking that if she were kissing the man she'd served today, she would have to lean up more.

The beautiful man was at the diner again the next morning, sitting in her section. She couldn't stop the smile that came to her, and she immediately went for the coffee pot.

Rose went back to serving her customers after giving him a steaming cup and a wink, he remarked that she hadn't been fired yet, which made her laugh, and she spent time trying to avoid eye contact with the beautiful man while she made her rounds. She felt like she was playing a game, but she couldn't remember the rules. He didn't order when she asked, but asked for more coffee. She noticed that he didn't add any creamer, either.

After his second coffee refill, Rose chalked up the courage to ask him if he wanted to switch to decaf. The man shook his head. "I had a long night," he said simply, the accent punctuating his words.

"Where are you from?" she blurted out.

"Russia," he said. She couldn't think of a response so she just smiled sweetly and walked over to another customers table before it became more awkward. Once she'd already left the table, she thought of a million conversation starters that just didn't come to her in time.

At her fourth trip to the table, the man finally ordered food, and as she jotted down his order, she happened to glance at his shirt and noticed a golden pin, in the shape of an eye. The pin tugged at her memory, but she wasn't sure where she had seen it before. He caught her looking and studied her face, waiting to see a reaction from her.

He didn't seem upset, so she let her curiosity win over. "Cool pin. Is it from a TV show or something?" He appeared disappointed by the question. "Something like that," he said.

Rose put in his order and made rounds before picking up his food. All the while, she felt his eyes on her, watching her talk to other customers.

She placed his plate on the table and turned to go, but he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Can you sit with me, or will you get in trouble?" he asked. Rose's heart jumped at the notion that he wanted her company. She glanced around the Diner, noting how empty it was at the moment. She smiled down at him mischievously. "I can spare a few minutes," she replied as she eased herself into the booth across from him. He poked at his food but didn't eat it. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, so Rose waited patiently for him to speak; she was used to boys being nervous around her.

"My name is Dimitri, by the way."

"It's nice to meet you, Dimitri."

"Do you like working here?"

"It's not that bad. Sometimes the customers-"  
"Do your co workers treat you well?"

"Yeah, they're nice enough."

"And you're doing well in Seattle? You like it here?"

Rose's smile faltered. She thought he must not speak to a lot of girls. Her excitement gave way to confusion. "Yes, it's a great city."

"Good... Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No. Well…" she drifted off, not wanting to explain her relationship with Jeremiah, especially if she hoped to leave with Dimitri's phone number. Dimitri looked at her expectantly, even hopefully, if Rose was being optimistic. "No," she repeated. "No boyfriend."

He nodded absentmindedly. Rose initially thought his awkwardness must be due to a language barrier, but his English seemed fine to her. There was something bothering him, Rose could tell, and the silence made her impatient. She wondered if she wanted his number after all. "Spit it out," she demanded, suddenly wanting to go back to work.

He looked at her, lost. His hand was resting on the table, the knuckles white.

"There's something you want to say or ask. Go ahead."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Rose," he said. It felt strange for her to hear him say her name, since she'd never told him it, though he could've read her nametag.

"I shouldn't be here," he admitted, casting his eyes to the table. If Rose wasn't imagining things, the great man looked ashamed. Rose couldn't think of anything to say; the encounter had grown too weird for her to comprehend. He pulled out his wallet and tossed a twenty dollar bill on the table. "Keep the change," he muttered and left the booth, at the same time leaving behind the stunned waitress.

That night, Rose slammed the apartment door closed as she got home. Lissa and one of their roommates, Mia, were watching TV on the couch. Lissa looked up at Rose's entrance, but Mia paid her no attention. "Long day at work?" Lissa teased, and Rose huffed and walked past the TV to get to her room. Mia sighed loudly as Rose moved by.

Rose and Mia had never gotten along that well. Rose never forgave Mia for embarrassing her at a frat party by vomiting on her at a frat party and ruining her chances of getting alone time with a boy named Jesse. Mia claimed to be too drunk to remember, so she refused to apologize. Rose would've tried to move out, but Lissa became the diplomatic barrier between the girls, making living together just bearable.

Their other roommate, Sydney, didn't like company much. She was always studying or watching movies on her laptop; usually at a library, where even though she'd be in public, no one would disturb her. Rose preferred Sydney to Mia any day.

In her room, Rose stripped off her work uniform and put on a pair of pajamas to spend the rest of her day comfortably in. After pulling her hair tie out and letting her hair fall naturally, she kneaded away the pain on her scalp, all the while cursing her job and the customers for the pain they cause her on a daily basis. She thought of Dimitri, and wondered if he would come back to try his hand at flirting again. Part of her hoped he would, and that next time he wouldn't fail so miserably again.

"What's so interesting on the wall?"

Rose jumped as Lissa walked silently into the room. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. I was staring off into space. I had a weird customer today." Rose didn't realize how badly she'd been wanting to talk about him until then.

"Weird is good," Lissa smiled. "You usually start with 'I had this asshole customer.'"

Rose found herself laughing, and for a moment her concerns seemed ridiculous to her. Dimitri was just one more interaction that she would soon forget. "Not an asshole. He was nice… and hot."

Lissa raised her eyebrows suggestively and said "Well go on!"

The girls heard Mia calling out from the living room for Lissa to get going. Lissa cringed and looked apologetically at Rose. "I promised Mia I would go study with her and meet her boyfriend, Aaron. Tell me the story later okay?"

Rose smiled tightly at Lissa as she left the room. Despite the fact that Rose knew she was Lissa's best friend, she couldn't help the jealousy whenever Lissa spent time with another girl, especially Mia. Not that she could blame her; Rose had been working all week and hadn't spent any time with Lissa.

Once she had the apartment to herself, she made a cup of hot chocolate. The weather had just started showing signs of fall this week, which excited Rose, but also made her sad. When her and Lissa lived with Ms Petrov, every autumn they would go to the Pagan Pride Festival in Chicago and get their tarot read, buy candles and stones. Rose loved walking around with all the self proclaimed witches, the smell of incense in the air along with the decay of leaves.

She found that most nights, she wanted her old life back. She could never tell Lissa this, though, because Lissa loves Portland and the friends she's made here. Rose settled into the couch, letting the ache of her muscles take priority in her mind.

Mia had left the TV on, so Rose tried to pay attention to that, but she was more tired than she thought, and now that she was sitting down, she couldn't stop herself from drifting off.

She woke to the sound of knocking. There was a new program on TV, but that didn't tell Rose much. Had she been asleep for half an hour? Three hours? She didn't know.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she made her way to the insistent knocker. When the opened the door she was shocked to see Dimitri.

"How… What…?" she couldn't put into words how confused she was.

"Can I come in?" he asked calmly.

"Uhm, no." Rose declared, her mind catching up to her as the last of her drowsiness faded.

"Please? I need to talk to you."

"How do you know where I live?" she demanded.

"I was sent by your father to find you," he said quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.

Silence hung between the two, Dimitri staring intently at Rose. Finally, she burst out laughing, slowly pushing the door closed between them. "You're insane," she said. His hand shot out and stopped the door from closing, he moved so fast Rose barely saw the motion. "You've never met your father, have you?" he asked accusingly. This made her pause, and she felt uneasy at the knowing look on his face.

"Go away," she said stubbornly, trying to push the door with both hands, but his one hand on the door prevented her from doing that.

"What do you want." she demanded, her jaw locking.

Dimitri met her glare levelly, studying her face. "To know that you're alright. Your father wants to know that you're alright."

She scoffed at him. "My father doesn't know who I am. He doesn't even know my name," she seethed, her voice dripping with venom.

"Really? Because he told me your name is Rosemarie Elisheba Hathaway."

She sucked in air, a sense of dread overcoming her. He knew her full name, which could only mean two things; he was telling the truth, or he was a stalker. She didn't use social media, so there was no way he could have found her online, unless he was seriously creeping.

Rose unknowingly loosened her hold on the door, and Dimitri pushed past her, coming into the apartment. He glanced around the room as if judging her living conditions. She didn't particularly like having him in her apartment, alone, but she wasn't afraid of him. He waited patiently while she tried to compose herself.

"Why now?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"He's always been looking out for you."

Rose shut her eyes. That's a lie, she thought. She wanted to ask about her mother, about why Dimitri hadn't mentioned her yet, but she was afraid of what the answer would be.

"Why did he send you? Why not come himself?"

When he didn't answer right away, she opened her eyes to see Dimitri growing uncomfortable. "He didn't want to bring attention to you."

"Why didn't you tell me this yesterday?"

"Yesterday my job was only to find you. After I told your father we found your location, he asked me to talk to you, find out how you've been…"

Rose narrowed her eyes at Dimitri. She wanted to trust him, because she saw no malice in his eyes, but the story was too unbelievable for her. She had too many questions, and didn't know where to start. All she knew was that she wasn't going anywhere with this man. Not that he would have trouble subduing her, she thought.

"How did he find me?"

Dimitri was the picture of calm, prepared to answer her questions. In fact, he looked proud of her for questioning him.

"Your father made arrangements when you were born so that you would always be safe, but within arm's reach. Ms Petrov, your foster mother, works for him. She looked after you for 8 years-"

"I know that," Rose snapped, her mouth gone dry. Dimitri hid his annoyance at being interrupted well, but Rose caught the twitch of his eyelids.

"Anyway," he punctuated. "Ms Petrov would give your father regular updates on you. When you were twelve, Ms Petrov told your father that you were lonely, so he arranged for an orphan to be fostered with you."

Rose shook her head in disbelief. "Lissa was sent to us because she fought too much with her last foster mother."

"She was sent to you because your father chose her," he said sternly.

"Nobody can do all of that, manipulate the system like that, move orphans around."

"Apparently they can."

"Oh shut up. I don't need your attitude."

"I'm here to help you, Rose." the tenderness in his voice caught her off guard, and she took him in. She found that she believed he was trying to help. She could see he was growing exasperated by her, and it made her oddly smug. She leaned against the back of the couch to carry her weight.

"So, are you here to drag me off to meet my father?"

"I don't work for him anymore. I finished my job, and I don't care whether you meet him or not. I'm here to tell you the truth so that there's nothing between us." There was a strange quality to his voice; something much more serious than the playful banter from the diner.

Rose's breath caught in her throat. She didn't know what to think, or say.

"So you were told to find me and you were enraptured by my beauty?" she asked mockingly, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

"Yes," he admitted plainly, "and your attitude. I want to know what kind of girl spits in a man's drink for calling her a pet name."

"You really are insane, if you think you can come in here and try to put moves on me after you hunted me down for a guy I've never met."

"He had the best intentions, Rose. He wants to make sure you're safe. Trust me, if he wanted to hurt an innocent girl I wouldn't have helped him… Look, I already told you what I know- Ms Petrov was enough protection for you, until you and your friend suddenly went missing two years ago. Then he panicked and hired me to find you."

"And you're telling me all of this… why?"

"Like I said, so there's nothing between us. So that I can ask you on a date."

"You're crazy."

"You've said that. But I'm not the one who spit in another man's cup."

"He deserved it."

They stared at each other for a while. Then they spoke at the same time.

"So why did you run away?"

"So you find people for mobsters?"

Dimitri answered first, "He's not a mobster."

Rose crossed her arms defensively, "Sounds like one to me."

"Wait until you meet him."

"I haven't decided if I want to meet him."

"You also haven't answered my question."

"And you haven't answered mine."

Right then Rose wouldn't have been surprised if Dimitri was a professional interrogator for the KGB. The intensity of his gaze made her want to squirm, it took everything in her to not move under his eyes. She knew that she could shut this down right now, and make him leave, but in all honesty that's not what she wanted.

"Well," she said in a softer voice, "You've only told me what you already know about me. The way I see it, you need to tell me about yourself. It's only fair."

He smiled down at her, and she noticed that they'd moved together, subconsciously getting closer as they spoke. "I don't play fair, Roza."

Rose met Dimitri's gaze levelly, her racing heart slowing down. She remembered the last time she was challenged by a man who frightened her. A dangerous smile crept over her lips.

"Neither do I."

* * *

 **Please review!**


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